


Forevermore

by heartstone



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst If You Know What Happens Next, But Only Cuteness In This Fic, Eregion, Frank Sinatra: Fly Me To The Moon, M/M, Ring Symbolism All Over, Romance, Song Lyrics, Tyelpe's Considering Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21972556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstone/pseuds/heartstone
Summary: Something about the quality of the singer's voice and the tune had made his hands ache to be around him, to sway along with the music in broad looping curls, powerless to the steady current, the ebb and flow of the lyrics into brazen instrumentals of brassy metal, gleaming with the liveliness the Khazâd blew into them. But when Tyelpë had looked for the Maia, he found the seat next to him cold and empty.***Annatar and Tyelpë dance.
Relationships: Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Forevermore

The song followed Tyelpë through the halls, muted by the stone between him and the Khazâd's band in the ballroom below. The lyrics, written by an ellon, had been reinterpreted by one of the dwarves into their own exuberant flair of musical style- even this far along the labyrinthine halls, he could feel the steady beat of the drums and the comforting complement of some stringed instrument against the deep smooth voice of the dwarf-singer.

_Fly me to the moon,_

_let me play among the stars._

Something about the quality of the singer's voice and the tune had made his hands ache to be around _him,_ to sway along with the music in broad looping curls, powerless to the steady current, the ebb and flow of the lyrics into brazen instrumentals of brassy metal, gleaming with the liveliness the Khazâd blew into them. But when Tyelpë had looked for the Maia, he found the seat next to him cold and empty.

The halls were long, but he missed the warmth of the Maia more than the warmth of the celebration.

The drawing room balcony doors framed Annatar in the rich and subtle reds of mahogany, polished surface softly glowing under the eternal embrace of light that fell from his steps. The stars outside seemed to frame him as he leaned over the balusters of the balcony, forming a corona of glittering celestial gems along the vibrant coppery flame of his hair. The heavenly and the earthly in exquisite harmony. . .

_Let me see what spring is like_

_on a-Jupiter and Mars._

_Could it be so simple?_ Tyelpë thought with a tenderness. Could it be as simple as the hallowed silver that bathed joyously in that primeval golden light, subdued by an earthly body? Could he- one of the many pale glimmers- ask of such a precious creature to stay bound to him, to never leave the center of his circling, worshipful orbit? Could their revolutions twirl around and around each other forever?

Tyelpë exhaled softly along with the distant burgeoning of the refrain, slowly walking up to the Maia and wrapping his arms firmly around his waist and drawing him close, up to his chest. He buried his nose into the curls that fell along Annatar's shoulders and inhaled deeply, as if to draw the golden light into his lungs to be filled with his radiance, to glow just as he. 

_In other words,_

_hold my hand._

They stood there long, and as Tyelpë let the light and perfumes of the Maia wash over him along with the thrum of the music and the twinkling of the stars, he knew what his final ring would look like. An annulus of finest mithril, unadorned by any gem and perfect in its encompassing curve, forever unbroken, turning itself about a slender finger of warm gold skin. A promise of eternity as fundamental as gravity, as the motions of the constellations.

_In other words,_

_baby kiss me._

He pressed his lips with a sudden passion to the curve of Annatar's shoulder, to the scatter of freckles along the bronze, wrapping his arms tighter around his wast, around the black silk of his gown, around his girdle of rubies. Pale argent around the warmth of a red fire, imbibing Annatar's presence was imbibing the warmth of midsummer, the enchantment of the forges, the hearth of a home.

He sighed after his fervor, a fluttering buoyancy within his heart as Annatar leaned back against him, the comfort of his weight keeping him from floating away into the vivid black of the late-night sky, from flying to the moon in a whirl of joy. He kissed his shoulder again, trembling with the dips and turns his Fëa took within him before he collected himself enough to speak.

_Fill my heart with song_

_and let me sing forevermore._

"You should be downstairs celebrating," Tyelpë said softly into the crook of his neck, into the glossy strand of copper that curled there. "The completion of the sixteen would never have been realized without you."

Annatar smiled gently, the radiance of his eyes shaded by rays of long lashes, by his delicate eyelids, so that the light scattered on his cheeks, catching on the subtle scattering of freckled nebulae along the fine bones of his face. His hands crossed, clasping over Tyelpë's where they enfolded the Maia, and he rocked into the hold slightly as the song swelled through the stone, reaching them through their momentary silence and their embrace.

_You are all I long for,_

_all I worship and adore._

Annatar turned, bowing gracefully under one of his crossed arms so as to keep from breaking the ring they made with their interwoven hands. He laughed, as pure as the light the suffused him, leaning in to press his forehead against the elf-Lord's, their hands still held between them.

"I will ignore the flattery of those words," the Maia said cheekily, "For I wish to celebrate now, with you, alone." Those last words Annatar murmured, and they stirred Tyelpë like bubbles rising in uncorked champagne, bursting with little fragrant pops of delight that invigorated him.

_In other words,_

_please be true._

One hand now on Annatar's waist, the other still entwined with his fingers, their feet traced the ellipses and arches of the stars in the midnight sky, circling eons and eons of starlight while their swaying was the blooming of the seasons, echoing with the muted melody of the celebration.

How long did they revolve around each other? Could their momentum keep them spinning and encircling one another forevermore? Tyelpë leaned in, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot where the crest of Annatar's cheekbone met the gentle curve of his ear. His Fëa throbbed in time with their steps, with his own pulse. The music washed over them, flowed between them despite the Khazâd singer retiring to sleep long ago. . .

_In other words,_

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Frank Sinatra is a Dwarvish singer in this work, lol. All of the italicized parts for the music are therefore not mine! If you want to set the mood while reading this, there is a version of this song (called "Fly Me To The Moon") up on youtube that sounds like it is coming from another room, which makes it really muted and sounds so good. It does have rain sounds over it too, however.  
> I wanted the ring that Tyelpë was going to propose to Annatar with to look like the One Ring, but made of mithril silver instead of gold.  
> ***


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